A Thief's Terrible Mistake
by Tower
Summary: Tauriel is nothing more than a lowly thief, stealing from unsuspecting travelers in the woods. But when that traveler turns out to be an Elven Prince, I guess there is only one thing left for her to do in an awkward situation like this: Beat the snob out of him, THEN rob him.
1. Part 1

_PART 1_

_There is one good thing about not having a family. Belonging to no one and answering to no one. They can't tell you that what you are about to do is very, very wrong. You know, get inside your head; make you feel guilty. Guilt aside, it is good business being a thief…until it backfires on you…_

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><p>It all started with a dagger. Two daggers actually. Two very NICE daggers.<p>

Tauriel had just finished skulking around a small, dreary old village, no prospects in hand. Darkness had fallen and the stars were out; moon was bright. She loved sleeping amongst the silver light.

She had only been sitting down near a small, trickling brook for moment when Tauriel saw them twinkling. It moved amongst the trees, and her eyes widened with glee. They glittered in the moonlight. It was a beacon of delight!

_Payday,_ she mused.

Tauriel was exhausted, but with the unsuccessful trip in village plundering earlier that evening, she couldn't afford to pass this up. The daggers would be well worth the effort. The only problem was that those beautiful white blades looked to be attached to the back of some forest wandering _fool_.

She hopped up onto her haunches, using her elven reflexes to stay quiet as soft air. She listened as she investigated the stranger. Single footsteps. He was traveling alone-at night?

Tauriel smiled, and tightened her cloak around her body. She proceeded to gently slip under the mangled brush towards the night strolling fool. She steadily moved ever closer.

Closer.

His footsteps could be heard.

Closer.

As she got close enough, she could tell her fool had long silver, moonlit hair. A maiden? A bigger fool than she thought. And carrying lethal daggers such as those? Did she think that would ward the scrum like her away?

Tauriel silently scoffed. She was for sure ready to relieve those weapons of such an unworthy owner. Yet, just as Tauriel reached down to pull out her sword, a twig snapped in the forest to her right. Panic rushed through her and she sloppily attempted to draw her sword, just as blade's tip grazed her pale neck.

"Taking a midnight walk?"

The tip of one of those daggers Tauriel so admired was now adorning her throat. She lifted her eyes to meet the voice. Her eyes clasped onto the blue eyes of an Elf, not a maiden. Not just any Elf, by the looks of him, but he looked to her to be Sindarin. A royal blooded Elf.

The elven man wore no crown or jewels to demonstrate his actual royal status, but she smelled 'Prince' all over him. And even though his tunic was of a fine blue silk, he only wore a plain chest strap for his lovely daggers along with dirty traveling boots. Not so impressive, _Sindarin._

"Why were you stalking me?" The elven man's voice was smooth and precise. He didn't let up on the blade's tip against her skin.

He was handsome, she had to admit. Even his high brow demonstrated his stately status. He was striking; but-not to her surprise-he did indeed look _spoiled._ In truth, she probably wouldn't have tried to rob him if she knew he was an Elf. Not that she particularly liked being with her own kin, but it just didn't feel…right.

However, this Elf was going to be the exception. This prince could live without his expensive weaponry just this once.

"I was merely admiring those glittering white daggers you have. They look…expensive." She said; her eyes twinkled as she looked up into his.

"The price," the Prince flicked his wrist, and the tip of the blade bit her skin, "isn't what is special about these."

She couldn't help but wince, but quickly cleared her throat. He was bolder than she had thought. Tauriel calculated her moment; her eyes studying this elven man. He was much taller than her, and clearly stronger. Yet, she had speed and experience. Qualities that, she guessed, a pampered Sindarin probably didn't have.

Tauriel stood taller and sneered. "Ah, I saw a spoiled princeling Elf wandering the forest alone…so, it was a treasured opportunity I couldn't pass up."

"Spoiled? How dare y—" The Elven Prince pressed his lips tight; a flurry of shock spread across his perfect face. His expression changed when the moonlight shined upon her own features. "Wait. You are Elven kin?"

Tauriel rolled her eyes. "I'm not really in the mood for any kind of chat." She couldn't show her confidence waning. Not now. "Hand over those pretty daggers, your Highness."

The Prince blinked. Yes, blinked. "In case you hadn't noticed, but I am the one who has this blade to your throat, you thief!"

"TISK…TISK...but I have a blade to YOUR throat as well." Tauriel's eyes flickered to his blue silk collar. Sure enough, the ignorant Prince looked down for a second, and she made her move. She ducked down, and spun on her heal. Planting her hands firmly on the ground, she lifted her legs up and around, swinging them right underneath the Prince's.

The blond brat was caught off balance, but to her dismay, didn't timber to the ground. As the Prince gained his footing again, she shot up. After finally pulling out her sword, Tauriel smacked the Prince's beautiful face hard with the flat of the blade. Caught off guard a second time, he dropped the Elven dagger and she scooped it up.

"Thanks," She grinned from ear to ear, "I think one will do for now."

Tauriel tucked the blade in the back of her belt, and skipped backward until she was out of sight from the dazed Prince. Turning around, she began to run. Too easy, she thought. But she expected as-

"Where are YOU going?" A large hand yanked on her ankle, and Tauriel's body lurched forward with a THUNK to the ground and getting a good morsel of dirt in her mouth. The Prince pounced on top of her, his boots digging into her back.

"OWWW!" She hollered.

The Prince chuckled menacingly, getting great pleasure in her discomfort. For good measure, he dug one of his fine leather boot heals into her spine, and she howled even louder. He bent down as Tauriel growled, and snatched the knife from her belt.

The Prince leapt off her back just as surely as he had hopped on, and crouched beside her face-which was covered in dirt. He held the knife in his hand, and dangled it in front of her long nose. "Mine, you wretched thief girl."

The Prince got up, kicking more dirt into her face as he did so. She hissed. Tauriel was angry now. Just as the Prince began to walk, Tauriel got up off the ground just enough to swing a hard punch into that perfect face of his. It connected with a cheekbone, and the Prince went down hard, his flaxen long hair billowing around him as he slunk to the ground.

"Come here you spoiled, ignorant Prince! Let me show you how to really fight!" Her adrenaline high, Tauriel swung at him again but he was able to deflect the blow from his solid arm. With Tauriel's body already in motion, she leaned into him, and he took that to his advantage.

_You overconfident idiot!_ She thought to herself.

The Prince took the opportunity to catch her off balance. He pulled her across his body, and slipped his arm under her throat; then, he proceeded to squeeze. Tauriel tried to wiggle free, but to no success. She gasped for air that would not come, and her grip was loosening on his forearm. The Prince continued to hold his grip on her, but at the last second, she was able to grab a small knife hidden in her arm cuff, and she drove the cheap blade into his free hand.

The Prince let out a soft, long hiss but he did not scream. Tauriel had to give him credit for that. She pushed herself out of his hold and grabbed the dagger from him. She kicked him in the ribs as she crawled away-you know, for good measure.

He hissed again, but this time, he gave a long hard look at her. Tauriel leapt to her feet but was frozen at the sight of his icy blue eyes, and their ethereal gaze on her.

The dagger was her's, but at that moment, she didn't want to run. Strangely, she wanted know everything going through his thoughts at this very instant in time. What was he thinking? She wanted to see how he was seeing her at this very moment. Was she scum? Well, she already knew that. Did he think her brave? Probably not.

Then, to her great surprise, she tucked her prized dagger back in her belt and squeaked out a "Sorry." She never apologized. It just came spilling out of her. Why did she do that? Why isn't she running away?

The Prince still sat there on the dirt ground, blood trickling onto his finely woven blue tunic. "…and me as well."

Tauriel's still hesitated; her dark brows furrowed in confusion. "You're…apologizing to…me? For robbing you?" She gave a short gulp. "And…um, also stabbing you?"

The Prince grunted, as if it was almost a harsh laugh as he reached to touch the remaining dagger strapped to his back. "Trying to rob…but failing. Don't you want the other one?"

"I already have one of your daggers, but I can try harder if you'd like?" Tauriel's tinkling voice dripped with sarcasm, but her face softened when the Prince actually smiled. A genuine smile. His pearled teeth gleaming in the moonlight. It was a smile she could feel worming its way into her chest, and gnawing at her jaded heart.

"You are…a magnificent fighter, actually. You are agile and fast. I've never seen such a…raw fighting style like that in an Elf before. We could use an Elf with the skills you possess." He declared, almost in awe.

"Oh?" Tauriel cocked her head to the side. This Prince was a curious one. She wasn't sure if she was in the mood to be recruited by her victim. She didn't need anyone telling her what to do.

The Prince slowly rose up from the ground. Tauriel's blade still embedded into his bleeding hand. He looked down at it, and gently pulled the blade out. Blood started to seep out.

Tauriel reached around, and grabbed at her cloak's ragged edge. She ripped a piece of the tattered cloak off and cautiously approached the Elf. He saw the cloth she held up in her hand, and let her draw near to him. She then wrapped his wound carefully with the cloth, making sure not to tie it too tight.

Tauriel couldn't help but smirk now. "Is this your first battle wound? A scuffle with a thief?"

The Prince exhaled deeply; closing his eyes as if to think for a moment. He then opened them, and great pain lay beneath those sapphire pools. "No, it's most definitely not."

She stood there a moment, finished with tying his hand, and didn't know what to say. He was mysterious and yet, there was a fleeting glimpse of vulnerable sadness. Tauriel squirmed. After all, she was only teasing.

He lingered there in front of her, looking down at her pale, soft face. "But," he reached up with an uninjured hand-and just before grazing her cheek with it-set it back down at his side as if changing his mind, "is the first time I've been robbed by a beautiful Elf maiden."

"And this is the first time I've been in a brawl with a spoiled rich elf." Tauriel couldn't help but grin, her emotions getting the best of her again. Why did he make her feel so…odd? She tried to breath deep. _I am stone. I am in control, _she chanted silently as she tried to look away from him. She looked back into his handsome face. "Tauriel. My name is Tauriel."

Despite his wound, the Prince stood up tall and gracefully bowed in her favor. "Tauriel. I like the name. It's…forthcoming for your nature. As for mine, you may call me Thranduil. Thranduil, the Elven _King_ of Mirkwood."

Tauriel's blood drained from her face. Not good.

This thief made a terrible mistake.

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><p>*OHHHH snap, you thought it was going to be somebody else didn't you? Hee hee. Thanks for reading everyone! Part 2 and 3 to come :D<p>

As always, your thoughts are most welcome. Is the format easy to read? Do you love/hate certain dialogue? Do I have terrible spelling and grammar? (okay, I already know the answer to that one *ahem, YES!* ) but still, let me know what you think. Review or PM me

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	2. Part 2

**Thank you for the very helpful reviews, peeps! You are all awesome :) I totally didn't realize I was spelling Mirkwood wrong. Jeez, I need to shape up, LOL. I hope you enjoy this one. I had fun writing it.

PART 2

Her cloak's hood concealed her face as much as possible as Tauriel made her way to the back of dark, smoky innards of The Red Rabbit pub. There she found a nice cozy nook, in which she plopped down with a sigh of relief. The ruckus was loud as usual, and the familiar sounds of chatter comforted her.

"What'll be, love?" A squat, red faced and frizzy haired woman approached Tauriel's table.

Tauriel's eyes peaked from beneath the hood. "Whiskey." She said huskily and flicked a coin on the table. The tired woman scooped it up without another word. As the bar maiden left, Tauriel scanned the room, fearful of anyone who might be watching her.

To her left, sitting at a table amongst his companions was a bearded Man digging his large dirt- incrusted finger into his nose, attempting to reap the benefits inside. Tauriel cringed. The race of Men were disgusting creatures.

Confident no one was eyeing her, Tauriel reached down through her cloak folds, and into her belt. Her slender fingers grazed the cool, alabaster hilt of her prized dagger. The dagger she won off her king.

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><p><em>The night was growing into dawn as the moon hugged the skyline close. The two elves sat amongst the forest clearing in which they had turned into a battle ground only moments before.<em>

"_So, now that you have robbed a King, what adventures will you attend to next?" Thranduil asked with amusement lacing his strong voice. He still clutched his wounded hand, but giving no indication of pain._

_Now that Tauriel knew he was the King of Mirkwood, she found his casualness almost more unsettling than realizing she stabbed King Thranduil in the hand. She was a loner-a orphaned miscreant Silvan elf- but no one defied the King of the Woodland Realm. He is the most ruthless of the lords of Elvendom. That is, from what she heard._

_Tauriel turned to face him, with a longing look in her face. "Almost robbed." She tugged out the glittering dagger that she had just won over, and handed it to the King. "Here. Take it back."_

"_You are a very honorable thief, my Silvan friend." The Elven King studied her closely. He pushed her hand away. "Keep it. A reward for fighting well tonight."_

"_I don't want it anymore."_

"_No?" Thranduil stood from the rock they had been resting on, and stepped away from Tauriel. "A homeless Silvan elf, wandering alone and stealing from apparently _anybody_, yet now she doesn't want a dagger she fairly won. A dagger that could feed her for months, and give her a warm bed at night."_

_Tauriel's eyes fell. Anger and defiance started bubbling up in her throat and she had to remember to keep her wits about her. "I have a home." _

_Her attempt to argue was pathetic and Thranduil knew it. Thranduil looked up into the lighting sky of dawn, and then back down at her. "And where does my Tauriel hale from? You are far from any Elven kingdom; mine being the closest. I know most of my Silvan subjects…except you." _

"_I…live around here-somewhere." Tauriel gritted her teeth. _Yes, good job Tauriel, he'll believe that! _She thought angrily. More like that farmer's barn up the road, if she was lucky._

_Tauriel could almost see Thranduil rolling his eyes at her attempt to lie. The truth was, She learned early on, that helping yourself was the only way forward. She has been alone for so long, she couldn't think of a better way._

She wasn't about to tell anyone that sad, pathetic story. Not yet.

"_I am fine. I sleep under the stars. The stars are my home." She defended softly, and bit the inner part of her lip, trying to look un-phased by his words. "Please, take the dagger Lord Thranduil." She held out the dagger once more to him as he stood before her._

_Thranduil glared at her, with fierce icy eyes. He ignored her hand with the dagger nesting in it. "Come with me back to my kingdom. As I said before, I could use skills such as yours. I will give you a place to rest your head, and food at any time you want. Tauriel, I came to this forest tonight, hoping to find an answer to the increasing Evil suffocating my outlying Woodlands, but instead I crossed paths with you. Fate has brought us together."_

"_I can't." This was all Tauriel could muster. She was flattered that the King would want her to come live in his halls. She was tempted even, to say yes to him. She could get used to being near Thranduil; getting to stare into those eyes. _

_Yet she was fearful of living amongst her own kin. It had been so long. She feared the memories that would resurface from it. _

_Memories she tried to forget._

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><p>Tauriel slid her thirteenth large glass of whiskey back on the table, clumsily. Hollering and hooting continued into the night of the pub, and she attempted to drink her cares away.<p>

The bar maiden strolled by her table, and Tauriel attempted to hail her over, with the last remaining coins that Thranduil had given her that night they departed from each other. A gift, he said; a gift to remember him by. It had been three months since she looked into those ethereal eyes.

Her heart iced over with longing.

Tauriel hollered at the woman, sounding more like "Heeey… here."

The woman gave an exasperated sigh. "Sorry mis, I can't give yeh more. It's the rules. Yeh had too much already!" And with that, she pattered on, murmuring something to the likes of 'for how many drinks she's had, it woulda poisoned a troll by now!'

But to Tauriel's dismay, she was an Elf; and it was harder to 'drink' your cares away.

With her tattered boots propped up on the lip of the table, and Tauriel smoothed out her brown tunic. She surveyed the late night merriment. It was mostly Men from all parts of Middle-Earth, but some randomly scattered Dwarves from a merchant caravan joined in the festivities tonight. She smiled at the ruckus.

At least she was amongst kindred spirits, even though she never dared to strike up a conversation. An Elf around here was unusual enough, but a _She-Elf_ that could drink you under the table? Scandalous, that was.

She was just about to lick the rim of her empty whiskey glass when-

"My father said you'd be attached to a glass somewhere in this filthy place."

A man's voice came from her right. Tauriel dropped her feet to the ground, and slammed the glass back on the table. She was annoyed by the interruption of her thoughts. She sloppily slid her hood back enough so she could peer at the owner of the voice standing next to her.

He wore his hood up as well, a beautiful green one, and long blond hair poked out from it as it cascaded down his shoulders. For a second her heart leapt, but she quickly realized it was not _Him_. This one was slender, tall, and graceful like _Him_, but almost seemed much more…different. His face was hard to see, with the dim lights, but she knew _what_ he was-if not who.

"Sorrey, you have wrong… goooo… away!" She tried to form the sentence, but did not succeed. Then added, "Stupid elves." Ha, that'll teach him. She tried to sit back in her seat, but slipped off a little, causing the stranger Elf to grasp her arm to steady her.

Tauriel didn't like that. She didn't like that at all.

"Leeeh go'f me!"

She pushed his arm off just as she pushed his shoulder away from her. It resulted in him slightly knocking into a large and frightful Mercenary from the North Mountains. The large, red bearded man's beer spilled on the floor, and the whole pub grew silent except for the curses of the Mercenary.

"Apologies, my friend." The Elf's soft voice was calm, but firm.

The red bearded Mercenary and his companions turned to stare at the newcomer Elf. The Elf held up his hands in peace. Tauriel couldn't help but giggle at his misfortune. The Mercenary stared the Elf down with a snarl curling around his big yellow teeth. "You spilled me drink, you half wit!"

She got up clumsily from the table, still drunk, and crossed her arms over her chest. "Ooooh he's mad!"

The Elf stranger looked back at her with disdain, and his hood slipped off his blond head. Tauriel could make out his features, and she admitted, she almost felt bad that his beautiful face was about to be punched in…. one…two…

The fiery Mercenary howled with rage and lunged at the green-clad Elf. The Elf's head swung from the blow to his temple, but he swiftly spun around the opposite way before a second blow to the gut was up for grabs.

Apparently the second blow to the gut WAS up for grabs, and Tauriel's stomach was there to catch it. The Mercenary hit her gut instead, right near her left rib. She flung herself back against the table as she clutched her side. A wave of nausea burned her throat and she tried to swallow it back down._ Nope, nope, not here._

She took a small moment to compose herself, and then leapt on top of the Mercenary, yanking his fiery red beard as she held on. He howled in pain, and the others around them began to get into the fray. Her new Elf friend was attempting to punch a small, one eyed man in the throat while another man attempted to pull on the Elf's long hair.

Tauriel wasn't sure why _that _was happening, but she had her own problem to attend to.

The Mercenary desperately pin wheeled her about the room; trying to fling her off of him. As he got closer to his companions, Tauriel kicked the man who was attempting to cut her new friend's hair off, and the Elf was able to break free of the others ganging up on him.

The entire pub was amassed with rioting by now. The bar maiden and the owner attempted to flee, but some Dwarves were in the way. The small, bearded Dwarves seemed to be punching anyone in the gut who came near them. Just for the fun of it and with smiles on their hairy faces.

Tauriel's new ride, the Mercenary, seemed to be getting tired. Or perhaps he was drunker than he thought. She was getting dizzy from all the spinning, and eventually let the big bearded Man go. He slumped to the floor, rasping.

Tauriel slid down to her knees, feeling the Pub still pin wheeling.

"Tauriel, we have to get out of here!" The Elf yelled, as he ducked a few beer mugs being thrown at his head. He walked over to her, crouching down to help her up. She sat further onto her heels, feeling another wave of-

"BLEEEEEECK!"

-All over the handsome Elf's nicely crafted boots.

**How is that for first impressions? Haha, thanks for reading everyone! I will gather up PART 3 and PART 4 soon, maybe by this weekend. I'm only planning on 6 Parts but…we'll see I guess!


	3. PART 3

PART 3

Tauriel emerged from the water. The sun was just waking for its morning rise, and the water shimmered with pale gold. Tauriel gasped for air as her new 'friend' pushed her beneath the icy water surface.

"I'm awake! Stop!" She spurted as he held her shoulders down. He was incredibly strong and Tauriel was weak with whiskey. She felt terrible. Not just for the massive amount of alcohol in her system, but for everything that happened in that pub up the path. She would never be able to show her face there again.

"I think you need-" DUNK "-one more." Said the smug Prince; Tauriel gurgled beneath the water, but she could see the look of gratification on his striking face.

He pulled her up out of the water, and Tauriel had no extra breath to curse him. Well, at least she was clean. After the brawl, and um, the unfortunate mishap with the Elven man's fine shoes, they both took flight from the pub. Legolas did most of the work as he hoisted Tauriel out of the bushes every so often when she stopped to empty her alcohol laden stomach.

Needless to say, she stunk.

"Who are you?" Tauriel gasped as he unceremoniously plopped her onto the creek's soft sandy bank. The birds began to sing their morning calls and she could finally make out her new companion's features clearly.

"I am Legolas, son of Thranduil." He announced, standing near the bank. His form was lithe and erect, almost like a soldier; yet he was the Prince of Mirkwood.

"Oh." Tauriel had forgotten that Thranduil had a son. Now it made sense, the similarities between them. "You look much like him-your father I mean."

He smirked. "He warned me about your 'state of being' but I didn't realize I'd have to dunk you in a creek to wash the sick off." Sarcasm dripped in his voice. Then, almost silently, he whispered, "I don't know why I am even bothering."

Tauriel sat down on a nearby rock, and proceeded to ring out her red hair. Her patience was already at a low point and she didn't feel like being insulted by Mirkwood snobbery. "Alright, I'll stop wasting your time. The real question is why did you approach me last night? Thanks to you, that pub is one more place I am not welcome. Of course, how would you know about any of that? I bet you sit in your forest all day, stroking that bow of yours. What is your business with me? Didn't _he_ tell you I am not interested in joining your little group of Woodland Elves?"

Legolas shifted lightly on his feet. "I didn't come on Thranduil's orders. I came because he is…ill." He loomed over Tauriel; his shadow blocking the rays of the rising sun behind him. He was a stoic silhouette. "And it was your blade that pierced his hand that is the cause. We are not sure of the poison attached to it. It isn't of Morgul design. Our healers are…unfamiliar with it."

There were no words that Tauriel could must. No sound of retort or alarm at the news she just heard. Her eyes could only look down at the water. Her breath was laborious. How could he be sick from her blade? She did not think it a special blade in any way when she acquired it.

"How bad is it?" She whispered.

"He is…alive-for now. He grows more ill every day. He will not eat or sleep. He barely moves except to look at the wound on his hand. It gives him great pain." Legolas informed her.

"I…I pickpocketed it off a traveler some months back. I never really used it before until that night. I didn't know it was laced with anything!" Tauriel stammered.

"No, you wouldn't know that would you." Legolas spat as he laid a callused hand on the hilt of his sword.

"I never intended to harm your father, believe me. He even let me have the dagger I was after, in good faith. We parted as friends." Tauriel said as she reached in her belt to grab the dagger. Her heart began to ache at the thought of her killing Thranduil as she lightly brushed the alabaster handle with her fingers. He was the only Elf she had come across to show her understanding and compassion.

Legolas still studied her as she sat on her rock. He stood there for a good long moment, watching her. Tauriel then re-sheathed the dagger. Legolas was waiting for her to say something that she had no words for. "Tauriel," He said reluctantly, "the only way to save him is to find the stranger you stole the blade from. When we do that, we may be able to find out an antidote. I sense great evil in this poison."

"So you need my help, don't you."

"Yes, I need your help. It could only be weeks before our healers can't stave it off anymore. Apart from the dagger, my father told me of your bravery and audacity. Please, Tauriel, we are running out of time."

She wouldn't have done it. Not even for an Elven Prince. But, doing it for Thranduil? Tauriel couldn't say no. There was no possible way but to move forward.

She was going to have to go on a quest with this Legolas. It had been years since she was in the company of her kin. This was going to be very, very difficult.

* * *

><p>"AHHH! It burns!" Legolas limped after Tauriel. The cavern opening was just ahead. She raced up the lighted path, hoping he would be right behind her. Her heart fluttered with fear. She turned back to Legolas, who was covered in a sticky, brown substance that clung to his green tunic like sap from a tree.<p>

"_How did yo-Dammit!" s_he cursed. Tauriel turned back toward him, as Legolas furiously clawed at his clothing. She reached out towards his flailing arms. "Hold still! Let me help!"

With clever tracking by Legolas, they had found the stranger who had been the original owner of that knife. After Legolas employed her help, they retraced her steps from the weeks before that night of her unfortunate thievery. It turned out that the stranger had been part of a band of wandering Shamans from the Eastern Shores, looking for trouble.

When they had discovered one of the Shaman's lairs, Tauriel thought it would be a good idea to explore said liar in hopes to find some kind of antidote for the poison. Legolas was, of course, against such an idea. But since these passing weeks, Legolas has been amiable to Tauriel, and she knew he would give in to her wishes.

They had been trapped in the labyrinth-like cave for hours, looking for another way out. So, yet another one of her terrible decisions.

Now, as Tauriel tried to peel the sizzling, ruined tunic from Legolas's swollen skin, she started to think Legolas was right. As soon as the tunic was pulled off, Tauriel grabbed the stunned and wounded Legolas by his arm. "Come on!"

They finally exited the cave and ran for an eternity. They navigated over the rocky, northern mountain terrain. Tauriel, looked behind her to make sure no one was following them. Back at the cave, a dark figure had emerged just as she and Legolas were rummaging through pots and vials. They both looked at each other, and had immediately ran.

Now, a shirtless Legolas was the only thing Tauriel got out of that daring excursion. Seeing him in pain, she finally stopped running. Legolas immediately ran into her from behind with an 'Oooph!' and he instantaneously fell to the ground. _Why is he so clumsy? _She thought to tried to catch him, but she fell right on top of him instead.

"Legolas? Are you alright?" Tauriel leaned over him as she tried to assess his wounds. His skin was bright red from the strange sap that had burned his tunic. She ran her gently hands over the curve of his chest, and touched his neck. His pulse was unusually rapid for an Elf. "It's a good thing we didn't stay longer. I think that Shaman discovered us. He may have seen us and had given you a hex."

His head turned, and Legolas's blue eyes met her's. "It…burned…so hot. I had to do something." Tauriel nodded with agreement, and touched his temple. He was burning up. VERY unusual for an Elf.

"I think we need to stop for the night, and cut our losses. You're hurt, and we are going to get nowhere without you." Tauriel said. She looked around the dark rocky plains of the mountain side. There were not many trees for shelter, but if they found an outcropping of rock, it may suffice.

"I'm fine. I can walk." Legolas tried to get up and Tauriel placed her hand on his chest. The move shot more heat into her hand, but this time, it felt like her own body was filling with warmth. Legolas noticed her touch this time, and he dropped his gaze to look at her small hand still placed on his bare, milky white chest.

He said nothing, and she didn't dare say anything herself-especially when her own countenance grew warm.

She lifted her hand away. For the next while, she helped Legolas up and they found a small nook of rocks that could hide them for the night. Tauriel got a fire going, and set the weak Legolas down by the fire. She left him there briefly, in order to try and find some herbs that would help with the red lesions on his skin. She was able to find some sage, which will have to do.

Back at the fire, Legolas appeared to be asleep. Tauriel smiled and set her sage down by the fire; looking at Legolas as he laid there. Her eyes fell upon his face and she couldn't help but admire his strong, fine lines-yet, they were still graceful. He truly was worthy of the title of Prince.

Legolas and she had spent a lot of time together this past few weeks. Every day, it became easier to live with another of her kin-or with anyone at all. They shared the nightly fire together. They hunted most of their meat together. Tauriel even got Legolas to drink a little of her favorite whiskey the times they had stopped at Inns. Enjoying his company became second nature to Tauriel. She had deeply misjudged the royalty of Mirkwood and hoped she could come up with a cure to whatever ailed the King.

She longed to see Thranduil again. She was not about to admit that to Legolas.

Tauriel sat next to Legolas, grinding and pinching the sage with her hand in order to make a nice pumice. Legolas began to stir in his sleep. _The pain must be giving him sleep troubles_, she thought. The firelight highlighted his peaceful face. He was very handsome like Thranduil, she admitted.

She leaned far over him, watching his face for signs of alertness. She brushed his long soft hair aside and put the pumice on his shoulder. The sensation must have surprised him, because he shot up violently.

A without any warning, their lips met.

Tauriel wasn't sure what to do. It was so fast. She pulled back instantly, but it was too late. The sensation of Legolas's caressing lips were now haunted hers. His eyes were open, and he was as alert as ever. The fierceness in his icy eyes did not falter.

Eventually, Legolas looked away in embarrassment. "I'm sorry for that. I must have been…dreaming." He explained. Tauriel still did not know what to say. She had never felt that kind of touch before. Perhaps long ago, when she was very little, she might have received a kiss from her parents. But, that was so long ago, and the memories had long dimmed of that.

This kiss was no family kiss. This one was much more special. This would be a feeling that would stay with her, forever. She smiled anyway, and went back to applying the sage to his shoulder. "It's quite alright."

Alright, indeed.

**Phew! Well, a lil' less humor but the 'aww' makes up for some of that right? Well, hope you liked a little Tuariel/Legolas action there. More to come in the future :D And of course more Thranduil stuff if I have some peeps waiting for that. Seriously, you MUST find out if he makes it or not, right? LOL.


	4. Part 4

***Sorry everybody for the late updating! Yikes! I got very very busy with stupid Real world stuff. Ugh. But now I am back to the story! First off, thank you so much for all your awesome reviews and comments! They are very, very encouraging and helpful. You all know who you are. Below is a little recap because I know it's been a couple weeks *hangs head in shame****

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><p><em>RECAP: Tauriel is a wandering thief, and her bad decisions caused her to run into Thranduil, King of Mirkwood one balmy night. In their scuffle for his daggers, she stabs his hand with a cheap blade but they ended up parting as friends. Thranduil even gives her the dagger she was after, along with some coins. A few months later, she gets into a bar fight caused (partly) by Legolas. Legolas purposely went looking for Tauriel and she learns from him that Thranduil is sick, presumably from the mysterious blade she had used to stab the Elven King that night. Legolas and she set off to find the owner of the blade, an Easterner Shaman, but only find a labyrinth like cave filled with worthless pots. Of course, as they escape, Legolas is hexed-which causes him to lose his tunic. Tauriel and Legolas briefly kiss as he recovers from the disorientating pain. Dun dun DUN!<em>

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><p>"My Lord…"<p>

A knock came on the oaken carved door of the vast chambers, which were lit by candle light. Burning incense of sandalwood sat on a silver plate that was placed on top of a small table. Long, white smoke danced and curled up to into the ceiling as the incense burned to nothing. A glass of deep red wine sat on the table-untouched and rancid. A large velvet chair was placed next to the table, its back to the door.

A tall Elf sat in that chair. The moon's light graced his blue robes as it cast a ghostly appearance on him. He turned his elegant neck, and he looked towards the knock. "Go away."

A knock again on the door. This time, the servant did not wait to be called in. He cracked the heavy door open as he peered inside. "My lord…you must eat something. You have gone weeks without anything."

"No. I am fine Barrien. Now leave me." A long hand shot out from the chair's long back, and it waived at the servant who stood by the door.

"But, Lord Thranduil"-The concerned servant Elf began to cautiously walk toward the King.

Before he could get further, the figure rose gradually from his chair. The moon's light made him look more ghastly and gaunt than he already was. "I said LEAVE!"

The servant stopped in his tracks, looking at Thranduil's menacing eyes in the dim light. He didn't want to anger his master any further. He quickly turned on his heel and shut the door behind him.

Thranduil stood in his chambers. He didn't want visitors. Not now.

He looked down at his hands. In the palm of his bandaged hand, he held the small knife that Tauriel had used that night to stab him in the hand. He had not let go of it since he had pulled it from his flesh.

Why? Why was he so…interested in this little thing? This little thing that caused him so much pain? It made him sick. Sick with what? Did he hold onto it because it was _hers_? Did he miss the lonely thief? Thranduil had not felt this way since…well, since a very, very long time. This hollow place in his chest was very…peculiar.

True, he wanted her to come back with him. He wanted her to be a part of his people. Perhaps he even wanted to her to be a part of his prized Guard. He admired her talents-even if they were not honed to the precision of a Mirkwood Elf. But, Thranduil knew he could have trained her; he could have taught her everything he knew.

Tauriel was imperfect and unique, and Thranduil cherished that. She wasn't spoiled and well taken care of like the other in his kingdom. She was a rarity; an Elf who lived her days to the fullest. Thranduil might even say she lived her days as if they would be her last. A feeling that all Elves do not experience. A feeling that Thranduil admired deeply.

He sat back down in his velvet chair with a soft thud. He was weak and stricken. His eyes were not their usual sparkling pools, but a dull and tired gray. Thranduil looked back down at the knife and methodically turned it over in his hand.

"Barrien?" Thranduil called out in the dark.

His back to the door, Thranduil could only hear a soft creak and then a moment later, footsteps. "My Lord?"

"Call my son to me. I need him."

"My lord Thranduil," the servant hesitated, "he is gone."

"What?" Thranduil replied coldly and he sharply turned in his chair to face his servant.

"W-we thought you knew of his departure?"

Thranduil ignored the doleful excuse. "Where did he go?"

"Legolas went looking for that thief, my king. The one who stabbed you with that poisoned blade. He said he was going to make her give him the antidote."

"Tauriel." Thranduil's voice became rich with animosity towards his servant. "Her name is Tauriel."

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><p>Tauriel sat by the glowing embers of the fire, turning the magnificent dagger in her hands. She had cut out a hole in her wool cape so Legolas could put his head through, making sort of a poncho to provide him maximum coverage. As he wore it, she couldn't help but grin at the sight of him.<p>

"You look like a very itchy, wooly potato…with a very handsome, pointy eared spud growing in the middle of it_." _Tauriel quipped excitedly. She was proud of her cutting work.

Legolas's frown deepened as he looked down at his odd, makeshift garb. "I will not be wearing this for long, I assure you."

"Oh?" She crooned with mock interest.

His dark brow lifted in reproach. "You're barbaric."

"HA! I am jesting, you're _Highness_." She smoothed over as she continued to admire her dagger.

He let out a sigh as he scratched under his collar. "The sooner we get to the nearest town, the sooner this thing is coming off!" Legolas growled as he looked down at himself in disdain.

"You are aware that you will still have to wear _something_ when you go _into_ that town, right? You can't go traipsing around the village in naught but your naked blushing bosom and trousers. It is highly frowned upon, _even_ if you're a Mirkwood Prince."

"Yes," Legolas lifted his graceful chin in purposeful snobbery, "well, I will just have to remind them that this is how things are done in my kingdom, won't I?" He haphazardly thrust his hand into his pack to grab out a piece of food. "Oh, and if you speak a _word_ about this to anyone once we reach Mirkwood…"

Tauriel waved her hand. "Yes, yes. I won't speak a word."

"I highly doubt this will be the end of it." Legolas muttered as he rolled his eyes. A hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his beautiful mouth and Tauriel's insides turned a flip. He had become so much fun to tease lately, she thought.

She kept smiling until he winced in pain as he tried to eat a small piece of Lembas bread. He was still recovering from whatever mysterious substance had covered his skin from the Shaman's cave. Tauriel's grin faded, and concern took its place. "How are you feeling?"

Legolas's soft eyes glanced her way for a moment, but then deflected to a rock behind her. He didn't seem to want to mention anything about last night-the night his lips met hers.

Legolas cleared his throat ever so gently; she had almost thought it was the wind. "I am fine, thank you for the concern."

She stiffened. The atmosphere was light and hearty, but now a chill filled the air. His diverted gaze said all that she had feared-that he had remembered the kiss between them. Tauriel had hoped Legolas hadn't remembered anything, really. She wanted to continue on as if _nothing_ had happened. It was easier that way-less complications for her when they reached Mirkwood.

And yet, Tauriel couldn't help but _want_ to mention the kiss even if every part of her screamed _No!_ True, she has grown to admire Legolas, but she still did not know much about her traveling companion. Perhaps he enjoyed more sophisticated Elven companionships than her? If that were so, maybe it was best he didn't acknowledge what happened? After all, how could she compare to the lovely Elven maidens of Mirkwood.

It was all so…uncomfortable and confusing for her. She sighed as she tried to brush those thoughts from her mind. Smiling faintly at Legolas, Tauriel sheathed Thranduil's dagger and put it back at her belt. "Well, Good. I'm glad you're feeling better."

Legolas took a fleeting glance her way. "So, we should continue our journey then. We will have to be more careful next time when raiding that Easterner's hideout."

"And why would we ever go back there? Didn't you learn your lesson the first time?" Tauriel snipped; she pointed at his poncho as she stood from her perch on the rock. They still camped at the outcropping of stones that she had picked for them the night before. It proved a worthy hiding place for now.

"I am not giving in that quickly, Tauriel. I have to find that antidote." Legolas looked fiercely at her.

She walked over to the dying fire. The sunrise was almost turning into noon day, and she couldn't help but notice Legolas glancing at her figure. The warmth in her chest was back, but she acted as if she didn't notice him looking.

She turned back to him as he sat there, as if waiting for her to speak. His eyes looked up into her mischievous face. She enjoyed those eyes looking into hers.

"Who said anything about giving in?" Reaching into a small inside pocket of her rough tunic, Tauriel pulled out a small glass vial filled with a very viscous and pale pink substance. "I found this near the back of that cave, when you were rummaging around in that Shaman's worthless trinket collection."

Acting unimpressed by Tauriel's cleverness, Legolas reached out his hand. She waved it around a little, then placed the vial into his palm. Their fingers briefly brushed together. A warm tingle went through her, but she tried to look unabashed. Tauriel pulled her hand away slowly.

They both paused, as if contemplating each other for a moment. Then Legolas turned the small vial over and over in his hand, gazing at the substance inside. "And you think this is it? You really think this is what will help my father? "

Tauriel nodded.

"How do you know?" He asked suspiciously.

"Just trust me, Legolas. I have a good feeling about this."

"That is NOT comforting me in any way."

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><p>***GAH! I have more, I promise! But I decided to end the chapter here for the time being just to get your feet wet again. I promise I will NOT go this far in-between on Parts being posted. More Thranduil in the future my friends, so look out! Hope you liked this bit to get you pumped up for what's to come! Cheers!***<p> 


	5. Part 5

***Okay everyone, now we are getting down to business. Tauriel and Legolas have, supposedly, the antidote in hand, and are now on their way back to Thranduil. I'm going to give a little warning; we start to go into the PG-13 arena in this one. It's not bad or graphic, but you know…just a little awkward, as with everything I write about. Also, prepare for Thranduil's return!***

*****PS: Remember, anything I put in Italics is either a dream, thought, or something that happened in the past (or all three)*********

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><p>PART 5<p>

"_You told me that would never part from me!" A young Elven woman yelled from across the deep precipice as she held her young daughter tight to her side. The remainder of a bridge was jutting out from the cliff. A bridge that barely bore the woman and child across before crumbling. The recently broken bridge's decrepit, rotting wood tumbled to the darkness below. They had only just made it to the other side._

_On the other side of the broken bridge, an Elven man clad in armor of dull gray metal stared back at her. His strong face held reserve, but his dark eyes flashed despair. Those eyes looked across the deep divide, then to the woman and his child, then behind him. _

_A horde of wild, snarling Orces barreled down the muddy hill toward their abyss-heading straight for the armored Elf. He quickly turned back to face his beautiful, distraught wife as he pulled his sword out from its sheath. "Go. They will eventually find a way to the other side. I can distract them and give you time. Go now, Tuilwen!" _

_Darkened sky was cast over them and the pattering rain became like rushing water. Tuilwen still clutched her frightened daughter as they both looked across the gaping deep crevasse. Tears trickled down the little Elven girl's cheeks; her auburn hair matted by the harrowing escape through the underbrush. A thundering sound pounded in her little ears. She didn't know if it was the storm, or the Orces, that caused the awful rumbling deep in her chest. _

_The air was thick and she couldn't breathe. Flashes of cold, bitter lightening crossed her vision._

_The rumbling sound got closer, and closer._

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

Amongst the tangle of blankets, Tauriel shot straight up in her bed; tears soaking her face and pillow. The rumbling of someone banging on the door continued, and she shot over to grab the door handle.

"TAURIEL!" Legolas could be heard on the other side. "Open the door!"

She sighed deeply, and tried to wipe the tears and sweat from her cheeks. Still flustered by the painful dream, she flung open the door.

"Are you alright? " Legolas's worried countenance could be seen in the darkened hallway of the Inn.

He was wearing only his trousers and his new under-tunic that he bought off a peddler once they had arrived at the Inn. It must be late into the night, as all the hall lanterns had been extinguished except for the one he held up to her face. She hadn't had much chance to sleep since the start of their quest, and it had been a couple of days since they bunkered down in this small village to give Legolas time to heal.

"I heard screaming and I thought…"His face went lax and his sentence trailed off suddenly.

Tauriel rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She squinted at Legolas's flustered face, and frowned. "What?" She demanded. "Well, forgive me for sleep-"

"No, um, you are not, um, wearing…anything." Legolas stammered as he averted his gaze. He gently lowered the lantern down so her pale body wouldn't be highlighted by the light's glow.

Tauriel looked down at herself and her face turned a solid red. She managed to choke out a "OH!" as she hopped like a barrow rabbit behind the wooden door to hide her naked body. Her face almost became painful to the touch from embarrassment. Tauriel closed her eyes and prayed that he didn't see much in the dim light, but knowing how well Elven eyesight is...

Legolas still stood there; he pretended to be very intrigued in an ugly, cheap painting hanging on the wall to the left of her door frame. A few seconds went by until Tauriel mustered up the courage to poke her head out from behind the door.

"…Sorry. I was having a bad dream." She tried to look calm, but the horrifying dream still irked her.

And now _this _is happening.

"Oh." Legolas was still not looking at her; he was attempting to hide a grin. "You must have interesting dreams."

Tauriel scowled. "Good night, Legolas." She said with extreme annoyance.

She tried to slam the door on him, but he eventually turned to her and stuck his arm out, preventing her from shutting it. Legolas looked into her eyes again; this time he seemed sincere. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to be uncaring. I hope everything is well for you now?"

She rolled her eyes; her head still poking out from behind the door. He was so proper and polite that it almost made her want to scream. "Sure. All is well." She muttered.

"Well," Legolas hesitated, as if he was contemplating something; his blue eyes shining in the lantern's light. "Good night then."

Behind her door, she managed a hurried "G'night," and pushed hard to click the door shut. Tauriel leaned against the rough wooden door and put her hands on her thumping heart. The wave of fear from her dream, and the shame from her sudden nakedness in front of a Prince, was nothing compared to how guilty she felt now.

Why did she have to be so callous towards him? He was only trying to help. Legolas was her friend. She saw nothing but concern in his face. _He cares for you, Tauriel. You can't deny that. _A small inner voice called out to her. She pressed her lips with her fingers, as if attempting to remember Legolas's kiss again.

Did she always have to push others away when they started to show the slightest bit of caring for her?

Perhaps she cared for him now too? Tauriel, the wandering thief Elf, actually cared about someone other than herself? She almost smiled to herself in disdain. She had become too soft. She had to cut the ties. She had a goal, and it was to help Thranduil. She would not fail him.

After a brief moment, Tauriel could hear light shuffling as Legolas walked back to his adjacent room. She pushed away from her door and walked back into the middle of the silver laden, moonlit room. She picked up her clothes off the floor. She must have yanked them off in the fits of her nightmare. Putting them back on, she still felt icy cold.

The dream had felt so real. It was as if…everything was happening before her eyes again. She shivered.

She obviously wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon, and so Tauriel sat there at the edge of her squeaky bed. She pulled out the dagger from under her pillow. In the moonlight, it looked just as it did the first night she laid eyes on it. The first night she met _him_. She gently traced the curve of the steel blade with her delicate fingers as she thought about Thranduil.

"_Come with me back to my kingdom. As I said before, I could use skills such as yours. I will give you a place to rest your head and food at any time you want. Tauriel, I came to this forest tonight hoping to find an answer to the increasing Evil suffocating my outlying woodlands, but instead I crossed paths with you. Fate has brought us together."_

"_I can't."_

When they arrive in Mirkwood, Thranduil will want her to stay and if she continued this journey with the Legolas, he will surely want her to stay too. Maybe he'd even want her to be more than what she can ever give him. It wasn't fair to Legolas to play this game any longer; for either of them to pretend that the kiss didn't happen and yet have those caring eyes look into her soul.

She couldn't do it anymore.

Clarity came to Tauriel in that moment. Thranduil needed her help. She was the one who caused him to fall ill. Even if she didn't want to stay in Mirkwood like he had requested, she at least owed this favor to the King. She had to do this on her own. Perhaps it was best that she and Legolas parted ways? She needed less distraction right now.

Legolas will have to understand.

Tauriel looked at her nightstand, where the small glass vial perched. The liquid inside making an eerie glow from the moon's shining light. She abruptly stood, grabbing the vial, and stuffing it in her tunic. She grabbed her boots as quietly as she could, and slipped them on. She stood at the lip of the window, and grabbed the bottom. She lifted the creaking, old window open and fresh night air came rushing in.

Legolas had told her earlier that they were almost to his father's kingdom. A few more days walk, and they would be at the edge of Mirkwood. She didn't know exactly where all the Elves of Mirkwood actually resided, but if she could get close, perhaps they will find her?

Tauriel swung herself from the edge of the two story window to a large branch of a tree. She grasped it carefully with her arms and legs, and proceeded to slide down silently to the ground. The night was chilled-and unfortunately she no longer had a cape-so Tauriel hugged herself tight as she tip-toed down the hill. At the bottom was a dirt road that led out of the village, and into the woods.

She followed that road, and made for Mirkwood.

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><p>His soft leather boots made no sound as he navigated through the thick, emerald underbrush of the dark forest. It was day, but only very few strands of sunlight could be seen through the thick tree tops above. A rustling of, what he hoped was the wind, shivered low and resonate through the trees. He gently put a hand on his blade, cautiously scanning the forest around him.<p>

He closed his eyes, attempting to listen to whatever stalked him. He had been traveling for days-through miles of forest lands-and the feeling of being watched grew with each day. It was a growing feeling of evil and menace.

A wave of dizziness trickled down Thranduil's long spine, and he leaned on a nearby trunk to steady himself. He had to find her. He had to find her at all costs now. He couldn't wait for Legolas to retrieve her. Ever since she had left him, the feeling of despair had grown in him like a cancer. It ate at his heart and would never be satisfied until he was nothing.

Was she safe? Was she happy? He had to know for certain.

Just as he contemplated Tauriel's whereabouts, the sound he heard became loud and unnerving. Something was hurtling towards him. His heart sank. He was too weak now to fend off an attack, and what was worse, he knew what came for him.

Hidden above the trees, were two great, mammoth spiders. Their many legs, and large pinchers, crept closer and closer to the Elven King, who glared at them from the ground. His jeweled sword was limp in his hand, and hung at his side. He knew the spiders could smell it on him. They could smell the weakness and despair.

But he had to fight just a little bit longer.

The nearest spider leapt at him from above, and Thranduil was able to lift his sword above his head and strike. The spider squealed in pain; it's pinchers spitting venom every which way. He did not kill it; he had only made the creature, and its friend, angrier.

"How dare you reside in my forest!" Thranduil yelled with unbridled rage, his sword clumsily swinging at the other spider. The other filthy creature had jumped down once the other had retreated, and now preceded a slow advancement straight toward the King.

Thranduil sliced his blade toward the spider again, and the spider effortless backed out of the way. Thranduil was too slow. Sweat actually started to bead on his forehead; a feeling he's never once experienced before.

Thranduil could no longer stand, and sunk to his knees. He clutched his sword, unwilling to give up just yet. Meanwhile, the first spider that had been injured by Thranduil, scuttled toward him from behind. Its many eyes where glistening as if delighted by the easier kill. It was just about to chomp down on the weakened King of Mirkwood, when a long dagger went flying straight into one of its black, cold eyes.

Thranduil hadn't noticed the spider behind him until he heard the painful squealing and a sickening thud. He looked to see the familiar dagger lodged straight into the writhing spider's head. He couldn't help but smirk as he looked up at the source of the dagger's flight.

Tauriel stood from her crouched position, and she looked down at Thranduil. She smiled, and quickly jumped down from the fallen log she perched from.

"Tauriel…" Thranduil whispered faintly as if he didn't believe it was her. She nodded to him and then planted herself in-between him and the other giant spider. The remaining arachnid held its position for a moment, as if it contemplated what to do. If it continued the attack now, there would be less of him, and more of the Elves.

Tauriel stood firm. In her hand she clutched an nimpressive broad sword. "Come closer, insect. I dare you."

Of course, it didn't really understand her challenge and lunged forward with ferociouse speed. In one small, swift motion, Tauriel sliced the first three hairy legs off right from underneath its body. It screeched to a faltering halt as it realized it didn't have those legs anymore, and ended up plopping onto the mossy forest ground in front of her.

Blood pooled around it as it wiggled in pain, and Tauriel stepped back. Eventually, the spider grew still and the forest was quiet around them once more. She turned to look behind her, hoping to see Thranduil happy to see her, but instead he himself lie on the ground. He was very still.

Tauriel ran to him, and tried to pull him up in her arms. "My Lord? Please wake up!"

Thranduil sleepily opened his eyes, and focused them on her beautiful face. He was exhausted but smiled weakly, and this time, dared to touch her soft cheek with his large hand. "I left to find you. I needed to find you."

"You went…looking for _me_?" Tauriel put her hand over his. She couldn't hide the surprise in her voice.

"I couldn't wait." He sighed heavily. He was so tired, but now, he at least felt relief.

Tauriel wanted to smile at the thought of him seeking her out, but at the same time, she knew he was very ill. Now was not the time to smile. "Legolas found me, and we found something that might help you. Hurry, take it."

She pulled out the vial that held the pale, pink substance inside. Thranduil's cloudy blue eyes glanced at it for a fleeting moment, and then pushed it away with the scarred hand that she had damaged moons ago.

"I don't want it; not yet. I have you here now." He uttered. His breathing had slowed and he no longer felt as weak as before.

"Thranduil, you must take it. This poison is killing you." Tauriel looked down on him, her sparkling golden eyes taking his gaunt appearance in. Then she added, "I'm so sorry. This was my fault."

"It was never your fault."

"What do you mean?"

"The poison only made my longing for you greater. A longing I haven't felt in a very long time. The thought of you far away from me…made it agony. It is only my fault that I didn't come for you."

"I…uh…I don't know what to say, Thranduil."

"Say that you will stay with me. Stay with me in Mirkwood, Tauriel."

Thranduil's hand moved from Tauriel's cheek, then to the back of her neck. He pulled her head gently down to him, and placed his lips on hers. He kissed her tenderly, and then he kept her close as he kissed her again-this time, much deeper. He could feel her tense up, but she didn't distance herself from him either. The poison eating inside him seemed to subside for a moment. The pain wilted away. Even Time itself faded into unrecognition, and Thranduil didn't know how long he kissed the young, beautiful thief.

They eventually parted from one another. He tried to read Tauriel's expression, but she was like stone. She exhaled subtly; still looking into his eyes and holding his hand. For a moment, she didn't speak. Thranduil lay there, waiting for her reply.

Would she say no? He was worried that she was contemplating it.

Then, with far more grace than any Silvan Elf he'd seen, Tauriel stood. She reached out her hand, and Thranduil received it. She helped him up off the ground. Already, he felt a light spring in his step again. Still she said nothing until he had stood up straight, and squared his shoulders like a King should.

"Yes. I will stay." Tauriel ultimately said as she smiled sweetly. Thranduil couldn't help but smile back.

The solitude of the forest pressed in around them as they stood there, considering each other for a very long time. Then, they both headed back to Mirkwood's Keep.

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><p>***Woah…this was a rough one ladies and gents! Sorry, not a whole lot of humor but well, I had to get Thranduil back in the game. I couldn't let Legolas have all the fun right? Hee hee, yay! Things are gona get a lot more complicated when Legolas catches up though…oi. Also, I find it hard to keep authenticity of character for my main players, so let me know if something just doesn't mesh right with dialogue or what have you. I like to make it light hearted, but I strive to make it believable as well. Reviews always appreciated, even if they are more critical (just be nice about it lol)<p> 


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